Of Mead and Magic
by Motherfunker
Summary: After a long day of keeping the peace, Percival and Gwaine find themselves in the tavern with only one thing on their minds - Merlin has magic. Set sometime after season 3 but its not important. no warnings, for once, just a little fluff, a little bromance, and a whole lot of poking!


A/N: This fic came to me one night whist trying to get to sleep; its not my usual sort of story, normally they're full of angst and whump and centre around Arthur and Merlin, and whilst this story is kind of about Merlin (well of course, that is the name of the show) its mostly just a little fluff between Gwaine and Percival. It struck me how most reveal fics are always this big display of magic, I wanted to see something on a smaller scale, something that didn't even really involve Merlin, just his friends having it slowly dawn on them (I mean really, how dense are some of these knights?) for those of you following me in order to read more of my Lucifer fic, I know, I'm a horrible person, but with season 2 starting in septemeber hopefully I can force out some inspiration for it before too long. I quickly wrote this in an evening. Its not been beta'd or proof read other than by myself so please forgive any errors and feel free to point them out, I'm a stickler for grammar and detail and if I've screwed something up I'd rather be told than left to think its good when its flawed. Anywho! Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have a lot of Merlin stories floating around but none quite like this one, it was nice to write something reasonably calm and carefree for once lol also forgive me for the title, I could literally think of nothing better.

Warnings: none... wow that's a first for me

Gwaine slid the full tankard of mead across the scratchy wooden table towards his hulking friend, one large hand reaching out to grab it just as it slid to a stop, slopping some of its contents over the already stained wood. Percival gave him a small nod and a tight smile in way of thanks before resuming his musings, his eyes fixed unseeing on a dark patch on the floor as he brought the tankard to his lips and took a large draught.

It had been less than an hour since they'd returned from a particularly tremulous quest. News had reached the court of a band of especially ruthless slavers taking a shortcut to Cenred's kingdom through Camelot, a group of freshly captured slaves in tow. Even if it hadn't been in Arthur's heart to go and rescue the poor people and rid the land of such evil, the sheer audacity of travelling through the kingdom, _his_ kingdom, warranted his intervention.

Naturally he had gathered his best and closest knights to face the challenge, all equipped with their finest armour and weapons astride some of the most battle hardened horses in the stables; and of course they were joined by Merlin, his tattered peasant clothes hanging off his bony frame, his red neckerchief tied securely round his throat, the only sign of a weapon on his person was the small knife he kept tucked in his belt, though it was more for cutting through the stubborn stems of herbs than flesh.

After sending out various patrols with the instruction to observe and not engage, the exact whereabouts of the slavers was soon found and Arthur and his entourage had headed out. Although they had the element of surprise as they surrounded the camp and launched their ambush, the news of the slavers ruthlessness and skills had not been exaggerated and a difficult and strenuous battle ensued. In fact had it not been for all the seemingly lucky breaks of tripping feet, falling tree branches and the odd way that some of the men seemed to drop their weapons as though the very metal burned their skin, the battle may not have ended so favourably

As it was all the slavers were either killed or arrested, the slaves were freed and offered food, water and shelter before returning back to their homes, and apart from some cuts and bruises, and one possibly broken rib on Sir Elyan's account, all the knights were in one piece. They had headed back to Camelot in reasonably good spirits, were it not for the few still slightly traumatised ex-slaves they were bringing with them. All in all it had been a very successful trip, which made Gwaine all the more curious about his friends almost melancholic mood.

He watched the slight involuntary twitch of muscles in the large man's face, the thinly veiled emotions flashing though his eyes and the way his fingers flexed around his tankard periodically, threatening to crush the flimsy metal with every squeeze. Percival was known for his stoic silence and long periods of thought, and although Gwaine's personality, in that respect at least, couldn't be any different, he enjoyed the quiet companionship of the other knight, the way they could spend hours in each others company in relative silence without it feeling awkward or strained. He'd spent many a night staring at Percival out the corner of his eye, wondering how the man managed to keep so calm and collected, having his emotions always so trained and reigned in.

Tonight was different though, with the slight twitches in Percival's face and odd way his eyes would scrunch up every now and again he may as well have been shouting his feelings at Gwaine he was being so uncommonly expressive. Gwaine watched him for a while longer, the cogs in his own head working overtime as he began to draw conclusions of his own. After another long, silent interval Gwaine let out a deep sigh, his eyes still locked on Percival, his hands cradling his half empty tankard as he leant back in his chair, his feet propped on the corner of the table.

"You know, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question, and Percival turned a critical eye to his friend, gently cocking an eyebrow in response as he waited for Gwaine to elaborate. "About our sweet, helpless friend Merlin not being so helpless." Both of Percival's eyebrows rose at this statement, but he made no move to correct or challenge Gwaine's assumption. It was times like these when Gwaine most definitely did not appreciate the larger knights silence and guarded emotions. He took a deep breath and huffed out a sigh, removing his boots from the table leaning forward, returning his chair to all four legs with a thump. He took a long swig of mead before setting the tankard back down, his eyes once again turning to Percival who remained outwardly impassive to Gwaine's comment. "When did you first start to realise?"

Percival's eyebrows creased together slightly in concentration, swirling what remained of his mead in his tankard, watching as the liquid came precariously close the the rim. "The Fisher King," He said after a moments silence. Gwaine sent him a curious look and the larger knight just shrugged slightly. "You told me the keeper of the bridge had said 'Courage, Strength and Magic'. So if Arthur was courage, and you were strength," he left the sentence unfinished and Gwaine half smirked in response.

"I knew something was up the first time I met him, no way someone that scrawny has such a good aim with a plate, especially as I never actually saw his arms move." The corners of his mouth turned up at the memory, but he soon turned a critical eye on his friend. "When did you figure it out? I mean really figure it out." There had been plenty of occasions where Gwaine had guessed at what might be the cause of all their apparent good luck, but it had taken him a good few months before he could say, without a doubt, that he _knew_ Merlin had magic.

Percival sighed and drained the last of his drink before answering. "I suppose I didn't until just now. I'd always had a feeling that something was... different about Merlin, in more than just his attitude, but I'd never truly entertained the idea that he had," he stopped himself short, his eyes searching around the crowded room for any sign of eavesdroppers before he continued in a slightly lower voice, though his deep baritone could not be entirely quieted. "you know, until today." He took a deep breath, a ghost of a smile making its way onto his lips. "I always thought we were rather a lot luckier than perhaps we should have been." Gwaine let out a bark of laughter.

"You can only witness conveniently falling branches and overly clumsy bandits so many times before you start to question if there isn't something else going on." His smile lingered as he thought back to earlier in the day when he was about to be cut down by two savage looking slavers when a large branch fell at the exact right moment and knocked them both out simultaneously. Percival hummed his agreement around his own forming smile and a brief silence overtook the table as the men began to remember all the times it was likely Merlin's magic that had swooped in to save their hides. Percival's smile however was short lived as his mind began to expand upon his knew found knowledge; Merlin had magic.

"So, what do we do now?" Percival raised his eyes from his still empty tankard and looked at Gwaine seriously. The long haired knight looked back at Percival, his smile slowly sliding from his face, though he was willing to give the other man the benefit of the doubt and feigned ignorance.

"Do?" He asked tentatively, his free hand twitching slightly towards the hilt of his still sheathed sword; he loved Percival like a brother, but if he so much as hinted at harming Merlin because he had magic, Gwaine would lose little sleep over cutting the man down. It struck Gwaine that he should probably feel a little more upset about the thought of fighting a brother in all but blood, but he found his instinct to protect Merlin greater, sorcerer or otherwise.

"Magic is outlawed in Camelot, its seen as evil, a crime punishable by death." Percival said the words with no malice or prejudice in his voice, merely stating a fact, but it still set Gwaine's blood boiling.

"Oh says who?" He whined petulantly as he threw his hands in the air, any previous hostility he had towards the large knight dissipating as quickly as it had come when he realised that Percival wasn't going to immediately try to turn Merlin in. "A King blinded by fear and prejudice? We're not from Camelot you and I, we know better. Magic isn't evil, and it isn't good. Its like... like a sword. Its a tool, and only the user can define whether they use it for good or bad." Percival's eyebrows raised slightly and he slowly nodded his head in a gesture of understanding and agreement. "Besides," the Irishman continued, waving at an attractive barmaid across the room to get her attention and lowering his voice slightly at the same time. "If Merlin's got magic then it can't be evil because there is no way Merlin is evil." Just the thought brought a smile to his face. "In fact if Merlin's evil then I'm going to change my name to Elaine and join a covenant." Finally Percival's face split into a wide grin and as the barmaid approached their table she was met by the sight of Gwaine having pulled his tunic round his ears to cover his hair, his hands clasped in mock prayer before him, looking like some sort of nun, with Percival almost in tears of laughter opposite him.

"Never a dull moment with you around." She smiled as Gwaine quickly removed the clothes from his head and tried to look suave but failed miserably, his clothes ruffled and hair standing at odd angles doing nothing to quell Percival's laughter. After taking a slightly embarrassed order for two more meads from Gwaine, the barmaid took their empty tankards and sauntered away, her hips swaying a little more than usual as she cast a seductive look at Gwaine, the knights eyes lifted from her suggestive hips to meet her eyes just as she passed out of sight.

The knights sat in amicable silence until the maid had returned with their second round of drinks, all hips and fluttering eye lashes, and though Percival could see that Gwaine was loving the attention, as he always did, there wasn't the look of carnal pleasure in his eyes that there usually was when faced with such a pretty young woman, and he could guess why. As the barmaids swaying hips receded back behind the bar Percival turned his attention back to Gwaine, his eyes still lingering in the direction of the barmaid.

"Do you think Arthur knows?" At first Percival wasn't sure Gwaine had been listening, his eyes still focused on the bar, but as the last hint of a smile slipped from the smaller man lips he knew he had been.

"I don't think Merlin would still be here is he did." He frowned slightly, staring at the fresh tankard in his hand for a few seconds before bringing it to his lips and downing a third in one gulp.

"You should give him more credit than that," Gwaine turned his eyes back to his large friend who was cupping his own tankard in both hands and looking into its depths like it held the secrets to life itself. "He cares for Merlin, a lot. You've seen how he gets when Merlin's life is threatened." Gwaine couldn't disagree with that, but the scowl didn't leave his face.

"Yeah, and I've also seen how he reacts to people with magic, regardless of what they use it for." He took another large swig of his drink, putting the tankard on the table a little harder than intended and sending droplets splashing onto the wood and his hand, but he didn't seem to notice, as lost in thought as he was. After a moment of hard thought and an increasing headache Gwaine let out a noise half way between a sigh and a growl and rested his head in his free hand, elbow propped on the tabletop. "Maybe you're right, but I sure as hell don't want to find out anytime soon." Gwaine turned a challenging eye to Percival who raised his hands slightly in defence.

"I mean, why come to Camelot, of all places, if you practice magic?" Gwaine realised after he'd opened his mouth that he was continuing a conversation from in his head, but Percival seemed to understand, his huge, muscular shoulders raising and falling in a shrug.

"I'm sure he has his reasons." Gwaine huffed petulantly again, unable to keep the hint of sadness and betrayal from his face.

"Why not tell us? Arthur I can understand, ignorant twat that he can be at times, but surely he knows he can trust us with something like this?" Percival remained quiet for several long seconds, thinking hard and choosing his words carefully.

"Depending on how long he's been doing magic depends on how long, and from who, he's had to hide it. A secret that big, with death as a possible consequence should it get out, you tend to hold close to your heart." His wise words didn't seem to be doing much to help cheer Gwaine up and the silent seconds stretched on. Eventually it was Percival, and not the usual Gwaine that broke the quiet.

"Are you going to tell him? Merlin I mean. Are you going to tell him we know his secret?" It was Gwaine's turn to do some deep thinking, and he found it made his headache increasingly worse. On the one hand Merlin was like a little brother and he wanted him to know that he could trust Gwaine with a secret like that, but on the other hand he didn't want to worry or panic the poor lad because if Gwaine could figure it out, so could everyone else. What settled Gwaine's mind though was his need for Merlin to feel that he could trust Gwaine with that secret, for him to open up in his own time, when he felt comfortable. With a deep sigh and a calloused hand scrubbed roughly over his face Gwaine gently shook his head.

"No. I want him to know he can trust us, but I don't want to worry him, I think he puts himself through enough as it is." With another heaved sigh and large swig of mead Gwaine turned slightly sad eyes on his friend. "So much for our victory drink ey? Its just as well I've got a soft spot for that dark haired, big eared softy."

"That's very hurtful you know," Gwaine spun in his seat, his head snapping round so fast he was surprised he didn't tear it clean from his torso. His eyes took in the pale, lanky form of Merlin standing just out of arms reach, his eyes looking hurt with a small, almost amused pout on his lips. "I'm not at all soft." Though the pout didn't leave Merlin's face, Gwaine could see the growing mirth in his eyes as he took the empty seat next to him and visibly relaxed when he realised Merlin hadn't overheard their previous conversation.

With his own smile growing, Gwaine extended a finger and proceeded to jab it into Merlin's ribs and arm a couple of times, the younger man crying out an exaggerated 'ow' before pulling his body out of Gwaine's reach and rubbing his apparently sore skin. Gwaine pretended to wrinkle his nose up in thought. "You're right, not soft at all, you're all skin and bone."

"Oi!" The young warlock poked Gwaine in retaliation and a small poking war broke out amongst the two causing Percival to laugh out loud. This in turn caused Merlin and Gwaine to exchange wicked looks before descending on the unwitting Percival, poking fingers at the ready.

As the three friends chased each other around the tavern, sending patrons and tankards flying amongst apologies and bruising pokes, their hearts could not have been lighter.

Merlin had magic – and Percival and Gwaine couldn't have cared less.


End file.
